All It Took
by Futago no Seishi
Summary: Chapter 2 up Suboshi's POV Everything you know can crumble around you. All it takes to change everything that is concrete is one simple action. Scene in which Amiboshi is fed the forgetfulness potion. Ami x Su mild shounenai mild twincest
1. Amiboshi's POV

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Fushigi Yuugi. It's not mine; it's property of Yu Watase and other people that I am too lazy to list. But I do happen to own Amiboshi and Suboshi. Yes, they ARE mine. Mine I tell you **hiss** MINE! I own-- What are these strange men doing in my room?! AaaaA~AaAaaAAh! LET GO OF ME YOU BRUTE! **Is dragged away in a straight jacket by men in white suits**

Pairing: Amiboshi and Suboshi

Summary: The scene where Suboshi force-feeds Amiboshi the potion of forgetfulness.

A/N: Some might say this is twincest, some might disagree. Me, you ask? I'm partial; I really don't know. Either way works for me. But this is kind of from Amiboshi's POV… So we will never know if Suboshi really _wanted_ to kiss his aniki or not… Or if that was the only way he could give Amiboshi the potion. Maybe it can be a sequel…

All It Took

By: DrAcOxNoCtEm

            "No…"

            He looked imploringly up at the young man kneeling in front of him with a sort of pained expression on his face. Striking hazel eyes widened a bit in shock as a fine brow knitted together. Wisps of golden spun silk fell forward down into those eyes, slightly obscuring the blue headband resting on his forehead. A multitude of different emotions flitted across the golden pools, seemingly shimmering with the sheer intensity. Full lips parted, taking in quivering breaths, still trying to process the information. He watched as the skin that was normally a sun-kissed hue, dropped down a few shades, the pale pallor so different and striking against his flaxen hair, The voice was so soft, shaky and breathless, contrasting so desperately to the loud and inhibited voice he was so used to hearing.

            "No…"

            Again with the shallow voice. It sounded so different; as if he were talking to a stranger, rather than a person he had known for his whole life. He'd never heard from him such a tone of shock, or was it fear? It didn't matter. He'd never heard anything other than a brash or excited voice from the other, and it was unnerving to see him so… timid? It reminded him of that little boy that clung desperately to his arm, staring horrified at-- No. It hurt too much to think about it. Just forget about it... It won't matter anymore in a matter of minutes.

            "Otouto…" He was shocked when he heard his own voice. It was just as soft and rickety. But then again, he was always the quiet one.

            "No, aniki. No!"

            There was that voice that he was so accustomed to. So much vigor, passion.

            "I won't take it!"

            And there was the familiar stubbornness kicking in again. He closed his eyes and sighed softly, fidgeting slightly in the arms that cradled him so gently, as so his wounds wouldn't bother him as much. His grip strengthened on the bottle, which was already clasped tightly in his wounded hand. He ignored the throbbing pain and the thick trail of blood slicking his fingers, trying to concentrate on what he was going to say to try and convince the boy staring down at him.

            "Just listen to me--"

            "No!"

            He sighed and closed his eyes again. Blood continued to seep out of his wounds, painting dark, morbid designs on his clothes and splotching a bit on his brother's. His breathing was somewhat harsh, trying to accommodate for the oxygen that his battered body needed. He slid his tongue out, wetting the dry, cracked lips, only to be met with a metallic taste resting on them. Feeling somewhat nauseous from the rapid lost of his liquid life, and also from tasting its coppery taste on his lips, he settled down for just resting in the arms so willingly holding him.

            "Otouto…" He knew he sounded weary, and the tightening arms around him told him that his brother had noticed also. It was always like that; he took care of his otouto, and in return, his twin had developed a fierce sense of protectiveness over him. "It's a chance at a new life; a chance to be away from all the pain and suffering of war. A chance to… forget. Forget about the past, the fighting. A chance to start over."

            His brother was being uncharacteristically quiet. He watched as the eyes lost focus and the face relax, as if deep in thought. He continued staring, looking up at the face that was so similar, practically a mirror image, but yet, so different at the same time. Where as his eyes were always calm and calculating, his twins were always wild. Furious like a raging fire, so spontaneous and dangerous. They were the opposites; fire and ice, yin and yang, black and white. They complemented each other, completed one another. Two extremes alone, but together, a perfect balance.

            He watched his brother, silently waiting for an answer. He hoped it was yes, that his twin would take the potion and be with him, and leave their awful past behind. He was given as an offer at a good life, and he just wanted to share it with the most important person to him. They had always been together, through thick and thin, good, and bad. And they would always stay together until the very end. They needed each other to survive; he couldn't _bare_ to think of what life would be like without his precious otouto.

            He felt a hand on his, gently resting on the tense muscles still gripping the tiny bottle. The mélange of sweat and blood smeared onto a clean, pure hand, which was gently massaging his in an effort to get him to relent the object. Or was it simply to soothe him?

            "Alright. Aniki."

            The word loosened a knot that had been building in his chest, painfully choking him inside, from anxiety and anticipation. He opened his hand finally, letting the scarlet stained bottle rest against his wounded palm. He winced slightly from the pain after he let go, the wound no longer being pressed, the blood now flowing smoothly across the planes of his hand. As if entranced, he watched as his otouto gingerly lifted the bottle, careful not to damage the wound any further, and replaced the object with his own flesh. He cringed lightly again as the warm hand pressed down on the cut, but was thankful that it stopped the freely running liquid.

            For a long time, they just sat still, staring at each other, hands clasped tightly, and intricate crimson weave showing through their digits. The air seemed heavy, whether with emotion or the scent of blood, neither would ever know. Slowly, his twin lowered his head and nuzzled his face into his neck, his hair tickling the sensitive skin along with the trickle of blood falling down from the cut across his cheek. That hot, heavy breath ghosted across his neck, sending pickling sensations along his skin. They stayed in that embrace for a while, just taking in each other's familiar scent.

            He felt the arm that was pressed against his chest shift, and his brother pull away. Hands still clasped together, the bottle was offered to him so he could unscrew it. Using his uninjured hand, he undid the lid, tossing it somewhere in the vicinity around them. He looked back up into the face inches from his, and saw the silent question in those hazel orbs.

            "You first."

            His twin nodded and brought the bottle up to his lips, some of the blood transferring from the object and tainting the soft folds of flesh a startling crimson. He watched as the bottle tipped, the liquid flow into that open mouth, eyes squint slightly from the unpleasant taste…

            But before he knew it, that open mouth was on his and that vile tasting potion was pouring into his. His eyes widened in utter shock, staring at an identical pair clenched tightly, brows drawn in… pain? Determination? He tried to say something, but he ended up choking on the liquid instead. He felt a strong hand grip the back of his throat, maneuvering on certain muscles, causing him to swallow, the bitter liquid burning down his throat. And that was when it dawned on him. His otouto was leaving him. He let out a strangled cry, choking some more on the liquid that was scalding his throat. No! His otouto couldn't leave him! He clutched at his brother's robe, pulling fruitlessly on it in an attempt to stop his twin, but it was useless. He clenched his eyes as searing tears began to blur his vision, spilling down his cheeks and mingling with the blood and beads of sweat. But if he had only kept his eyes open a bit longer, he would have seen the lone, crystalline tear seep out between a golden fringe and slide mournfully down along the crevasses of a now pale face. An apology, a goodbye.

_All can change in one action_

_In one simple gesture_

_All that we have been accustomed to_

_Can shatter before our eyes_

_Just one action_

And that was all it took 

_All it took to change the concrete_

_What we thought to be forever_

_We had always been so close_

_Never imagining the day that we_

_Two halves if a puzzle_

_Would finally separate_

_But yet, it's happened_

_The impossible_

_We lost out unique relationship_

_The bond that held us together_

_And all it took was one action_

_A moment of unguarded emotion_

_All it took to break us apart_

_Was one simple kiss_

~owari~


	2. Suboshi's POV

Disclaimer: I don't own Fushigi Yuugi, and… I admit I do not own the twins. In my own little imaginary world, I do. But alas, in the real world, the lovely Miss Yuu Watase still claims all rights over them. That is, until I figure out how cloning works...

Pairing: Amiboshi x Suboshi

Summary: Suboshi's POV on the scene where he feeds his aniki the potion

Warnings: This here fic has hints of shounen-ai and twincest. If that sort of thing bothers you, then simple, just don't read.

Thank You's: I would just like to thank all of the people that reviewed my ficcy. It really means a lot to me when I get to hear your opinions.

Feedback: Feedback is adored, coddled, and worshipped.

A/N: Ok, so I _finally_ got off my lazy butt and finished the second chapter to this fic. Why did I do it? I honestly don't know. I guess I just wanted to explore Suboshi's thoughts on the incident.

All It Took  
Chapter Two: Suboshi's POV

            "No…"

            He stared aghast down at the man sitting in front of him. Beautiful hazel eyes stared up at him pleadingly, large and innocent, begging him. Dark blood matted flaxen hair down on his forehead, leaving tainted streaks sliding down the planes of his face, like crimson tears. Pale skin against striking scarlet, such a painful contrast, the red seemingly drowning out the defeated hue. So pale, so much blood…

            "No…"

            So deathly… No color in that cheerful face, no rose on those soft lips. All of the red in his pallor was draining from him, painting his skin with intricate marks, morbid reminders of the damage that had been caused. He could feel his chest tightening, staring down at the young man in his arms. He looked so fragile, so young… so much different from the strong person that he had always been. He was always the one in control; he knew how to handle anything, when he himself had reacted brashly. This… couldn't be the same person. This couldn't be the strong boy that he had always depended on.

            "Otouto…" The other's voice was so weary. Exhausted, breathless, as if ready to collapse. What happened to that calm controlled voice that had always guided him along?

            "No, aniki. No!" He couldn't help it. He felt his temper rising against his own will. His aniki was _not_ saying this to him. He wouldn't hear it! How could his brother even suggest such a thing? "I won't take it!"

            He watched as his brother sighed quietly and closed his eyes, his weariness showing. He held the body steady as his aniki moved, shifting slightly and wincing when a wound was pressed. He looked so young, so vulnerable, like the child he really was. Weak and helpless. His heart tightened with emotion as he held his twin closer.

            "Just listen to me--"

            "No!"

He couldn't help but cut his aniki off. He couldn't bear to listen any more to that raspy, defeated voice. It just didn't seem like his proud aniki. But he was snapped immediately out of his thoughts when he saw a flicker of movement. He watched with utmost concentration, as if mesmerized, as a pink tongue slid out, moving along crimson stained lips, leaving a film of glistening liquid over the blood. He felt his throat constrict, not out of fear, and berated himself mentally. Now was _not_ the time to be thinking like that! 

He had discovered a while ago that the fierce emotions he had been harboring for his brother were indeed not just a strong sense of protectiveness. What he had felt for his brother was love, a strong sense of infatuation that was not the kind family shared. At first, he had been disgusted with himself, thinking such things about his own twin. But over time, he had come to accept it. He was in love with his aniki. And seeing his brother lick his lips was not doing any good for his restraint.

            "Otouto…"

            His aniki sounded so tired… He tightened his arms around him in a protective fashion, and pulled him closer. Okay, maybe he could listen to what his aniki had to say.

            "It's a chance at a new life; a chance to be away from all the pain and suffering of war. A chance to…. Forget. Forget about the past, the fighting. A chance to start over."

            The words echoed around in his head. A new life… Forget about the past… What would it be like to start new? To erase all of the painful memories they kept inside, and live a normal life. That sounded so enticing, sinfully desirable. It was what they had both dreamed of, deep within. Of course his aniki expressed his dream openly, but he wasn't the only one who wished to live without all of the fighting. True, he never said it, but he in no way got some perverse satisfaction out of killing. He didn't want to cause any more suffering. And now, a new door had opened for them, a peaceful life beyond it; an opportunity to leave the life of a Seiryuu seishi behind.

            But he couldn't accept that fate for himself. He wasn't worthy of such a kind blessing. He still had icy blood running along his fingers from his cold murder; the many innocent people he had so thoughtlessly killed in a moment of pure, unadulterated emotion. He felt an involuntary shiver course down his spine and blossom out in waves of piercing cold, racing deep inside his bones and chilling him to the core. All those lives… so thoughtlessly disposed of without any care in mind. And it was all his fault. He just knew that those lost souls would be waiting for him when he died, dragging his tainted soul with them into the dark, depthless abyss of hell, where they were likely to shred apart whatever was left of his being, destroying him eternally, day in and day out, dying again and again in a vicious never-ending cycle… Dying daily, but at the same time, never really being granted that privilege, never once able to drift off into mindless oblivion, numb to all of the pain -torture- forever… No; he probably never would be able to have that luxury, forced to suffer through unimaginable anguish for all time, until he had finally learned to repent for his sins. No, he could never -should never- be able to experience peace, happiness… not after all that had tarnished his soul.

            But his aniki… He deserved this happiness. He never did anything worthy to suffer for redemption, as he himself would have to. His hands were clean, untouched, even if he had murdered just as he had, for his brother had only done so with orders and vehement dissatisfaction mixed with utter regret. Even in utmost grief, he never would have thought to play that shrieking tune, those high-pitched notes slowly tearing away at his victims' minds, an invisible force crushing ruthlessly on their skull… No, his aniki was a gentle soul, pained each time as blood slowly dripped out of what was left of his opponent's skull. And often, he could hear his brother lamenting at night, body wracking with silent sobs against his, unknowingly stirring him from his sleep, as he mourned for the people that had died at his hands. No… someone with such a kindred spirit ought to be happy. His aniki deserved this so much more than he did.

            And it was true, about them being opposites. Of course, physically, they were practically identical, but inside… so different. He was the flaming heat, hot-heated and quick-tempered, always jumping to conclusions, depending mostly on his volatile emotions alone, never seeming to think things through. But his brother… he was liquid cool, calming and soothing, always collected, never brash, constantly calculating and contemplating things through. They were black and while, light and darkness, one only seeing the terrible things in life, the other trying to focus on all of the good. Pessimism with optimism, yin and yang. And it was true. He was malevolence, while his brother was the epitome of benevolence trapped within a cruel cycle of pain and suffering, slowly eating away at his unfortunate heart. And though yin and yang are inevitably drawn together, they could never survive with one another, because the darkness could never be worthy enough of the things that the light was allowed.

            And that was why he could never be with his aniki… Only one of them deserved a good life. They inevitably in the end, would have to part. And only one would have to feel the reverberating waves of separation… himself. He wouldn't allow his twin to suffer anymore; he already had enough pain in his life. If anyone had felt the stinging force of torment's hand, it had been his precious aniki. He wanted -no he needed- to deliver his brother into the cradling arms of peace, and out of the vice like grip misery had on him. He felt his chest tighten with emotion, as if those tormented souls were already trying to tear him apart.

            But he had to do this… it couldn't be avoided. So he steeled his nerves and forced his contracted chest to loosen, pulling up a calm façade to hide behind… Slowly, he let his hand fall down onto the one gripping the bottle with an almost crushing force, letting the blood stain his hand and not really caring. As if on their own volition, the muscles in his hand began to slowly move, digits rubbing soothingly along the slick flesh. He wasn't really sure why he was doing it; it wasn't as if he was trying to get the object away.  He just… was. It calmed him, in a way, those cathartic movements along the soft skin, stretched tautly over protruding knuckles, feeling the curve of those bones under the soft pads of his fingertips.

            _Forgive me, aniki._

            "Alright, aniki."

            He watched as the expression on his brother's face softened, and the tension slowly leave his rigid form. He hated to see him look so relieved, when he knew that his twin's sudden hope and happiness would splinter to pieces within minutes. But he was jolted out of his thoughts when he felt the muscles ofthe hand, which he was still gently holding, flex. He let go as the hand unfolded, a soft noise of discomfort emanating from cracked lips, as rivulets of crimson life spilled forth from the free wound again. He couldn't help but stare at the blood flowing out along the curved flesh and painting morbid designs on the skin, He felt torn, for her knew that it was his fault. It just enforced his conviction for what he needed to do even more. Carefully, he lifted the bottle as to not further damage his brother's hand, and softly placed his own against the palm, in an effort to halt the bleeding and assure his aniki. He felt the body under him recede a bit in pain, and looked up stare into a mirror image of his eyes.

            He didn't know how long had passed, but around them, time seemed to stop. He just stared longingly into endless hazel pools, watching as emotions swam across the surface in rapid waves. He was enraptured, immersed in those stunning orbs, seeing himself reflected in them, and seeing the essence -the soul- of his brother in them. The air around them seemed heavy, as emotions seemed to pour out of them in a roiling mass. Eventually, the sensations took over him, and he lowered his head to his brother's neck, burying his face against the exposed column. He breathed in his brother's scent, tinged with the heady smell of blood, trying to etch into his memory what had already been engraved in permanently. He felt something warm trickle past his lips, and moved his face forward a bit, letting the scarlet liquid color his lips, its metallic flavor seeping in through the crevasse between the folds of flesh. He wanted to stay forever in that position, lost in loving arms that, too soon, would never embrace him again.

            Reluctantly, he pulled away from the intoxicating embrace. The longer he stayed entwined with his brother, the more his resolved seemed to waver, and the easier it felt to just take the offered chance and wash away his past… But no, he couldn't. He had to stay strong,  he had to finish what he started. With a sense of near desperation, though cleverly guised, he held the bottle out to his brother to uncap, since he just couldn't bring himself to let go… not completely, not just yet. He watched as those deft fingers undid the lid, and tossed it somewhere randomly around them. That was very unlike his aniki; he must be getting anxious. That, or he was becoming impatient. He watched as those striking eyes turned back to him, their gaze reading the unspoken question in his eyes.

            "You first."

            He swallowed thickly, his throat tightening and refusing to work properly. There was a mantra repeating through his head constantly now, reminding him that he couldn't give up. I have to, I have to… Over and over again, trying to black out all thoughts of simple escape. He nodded to show his consent, and brought the container up to his lips, his movement hindering slightly before the cool material could touch his lips. Inhaling shakily, he let the bottle rest between his parted lips, the sweet, metallic flavor of his twin's blood staining his lips again. Taking a deep breath and forcing his facial expression into an impassive mask, hiding all of his inner turmoil, he squeezed his aniki's hand again, hoping to the four gods above that his plan would work. Tilting the bottle, he let the strong smelling liquid pour into his mouth, squinting his eyes and trying not to gag in surprise from the disgusting taste.

            Trying to ignore his pounding heartbeat, he tossed the bottle aside, and in quick, reflexive movements, he bent down and grabbed onto the back of that stained neck, closing his mouth over the slack lips of his surprised twin. He felt the bitter liquid drain from his mouth, running over his tongue in a vile wave before spilling forth into his brother's open mouth. He let his hand move along the back of that slender neck, blood coating his fingers as he maneuvered them along the muscles, pushing on sensitive areas and forcing his brother to swallow the brew. He began to see spots form between his eyes from the force he was clenching them with, but he didn't care. He could no longer hear his drumming heartbeat, or the shallow breaths he was forcing through his unwilling nose. All he could hear, around him, enveloping him, was the feeble choking noises his brother made as he tried to reject the liquid. A panicked hand gripped at his robes, pulling frantically on them, trying to stop him. His brother knew now, but he couldn't stop. It was too late. He felt his brother's form shake with familiar motions, the tears sliding down his beautiful face and falling onto their joined lips. He felt his own scalding tear seep out between his a single closed lid, falling down his own face and burning him like searing acid.

            _Goodbye, Koutoku... I'll always love you._

~owari~


End file.
